This is it! Finally! Someone who lacks the ability to form opinions or rank things based on prior knowledge. My clumsy, unsatisfying sexual advances won't be ranked against a mental catalog of more successful, less embarassing similar activities. I won't be stuck, drowning in a pool of handsome and rich and healthy and physically fit men (allegedly my "peers"). I'll exist in a total vacuum, where my below-averageness is no longer an object of ridicule, rather it just sits quietly without anything to compare it against.
Unfortunately, it was not be. When she looks up from a $200 All Clad pan and sees me and that tell-tale grim expression (featuring Annoyed SneerTM) appears on her face, I can tell that she sees right through me. I suck. The first words out of my mouth are, "I'm sorry" and I leave the store in a hurry, hoping to find a comely amnesia sufferer or an abandoned bottle of horse tranquilizers, because my therapist bills took up most of my disposable income last month but I'm too weak to stop going even though he spends most of our time poking me with a yardstick pointing out my faults and I know that my pharmacist is giving me either placebos or something he knows I'm allergic to.
